


Cookies

by Clair de Lune (clair_de_lune)



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Incest, M/M, Pre-Series, Prompt Fic, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-23
Updated: 2012-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-31 15:18:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/345605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clair_de_lune/pseuds/Clair%20de%20Lune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lincoln has his hands full... (Pre-series)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cookies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [camille_miko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/camille_miko/gifts).



> Prompt by camille-miko: Michael/Lincoln, whipped cream and LJ.  
> Many thanks to foxriverinmate for the beta.

There is a can of fresh whipped cream in the fridge, an overexcited LJ in the kitchen and a sultry sulky Michael in the living room.

Standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, between his son and his... he’s not going to think ‘brother’ right now... Lincoln scratches the nape of his neck. This is not how he had planned to spend the day. Lisa wasn’t supposed to drop LJ at his place today but, yeah, between what Lisa is supposed to do, what Lisa can do, and what Lisa actually does... Michael wasn’t supposed to show up before tomorrow. Lincoln highly suspects that he cut a couple of classes at Loyola to come here earlier, but that’s something they’ll discuss later. Sultry sulky Michael, with eyes dark with disappointment and too much skin showing between the waistband of his jeans and the edge of his carelessly bunched up tee-shirt, does not incite to chastisement. Except maybe the dirty-fun kind of chastisement, but Linc is not going there right now.

In the kitchen, LJ has dug up Lincoln’s stash of chocolate chip cookies and starts gorging himself on them. In the living room, slouched into the couch, Michael absentmindedly trails long fingers on the bare skin of his stomach and absorbs himself into some pretentious architecture magazine. Lincoln leans against the wall, feeling like snapping “Stop it!” at both of them. For different reasons. Instead, in a wise move, he grabs the box from LJ, puts two cookies on the table, and stores the rest in a cupboard out of LJ’s reach.

“Wait here for me a minute,” he tells his son, “and then we’re going out doing... whatever you want to do.”

The door clicks shut behind him, the soft noise startling Michael and making him look up from his article, but not stopping the maddening dance of his fingers on his lower belly. Lincoln stomps through the living room, grips Michael’s wrist and wrenches his hand away from his stomach. Michael blinks in surprise, and Lincoln could slap him for not realizing _what_ he was doing, and what it was doing to his big brother.

“It’s my son, Michael.”

“I know. I’m not angry or... I don’t know what you imagine I am, actually, Linc. Just...”

He shrugs, sighs, licks his lips, and Lincoln can’t help it, can’t help bending down and crushing their mouths together. Heart in his throat at the thought of LJ on the other side of the door, but hundred of tiny sparks rushing down to his crotch. Michael moans into the kiss, back suddenly arching and bare feet shuffling on the coffee table to give him some leverage.

“LJ and I are going out. Lisa _will_ be here at six to pick him up. There is a can a whipped cream in the fridge...”

Michael smirks. “Really? After what happened with the honey?”

“... and at five past six,” Lincoln carries on without even acknowledging the snarky interruption, “I’ll have you on your back in my bed. Or in any position you’ll judge appropriate. Or inappropriate. What do you think?”

“Sounds like a plan. I like it when you’re the one who plans stuff.”

“Great.”

He straightens up, not without one last lingering kiss, and heads to the kitchen and LJ. LJ who, by the way, has managed to get an extra cookie from the supposedly unreachable box. On the couch, the way too alluring dance of Michael’s fingers starts again, and Lincoln closes his eyes. Keeps them close until Michael’s voice cuts in and asks, “Hey Linc, in the meantime, give me a couple of cookies, will you?”

-End-


End file.
